That Sheep Might Safely Graze
by jayanx
Summary: Sakura risks it all to save her friend. Left alone and dying what happens when the end doesn't come as she expects? Is there life beyond death?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _Author appears in a classroom writing "I do not own Naruto" 100 times on the chalkboard._

She had once read that "if you love something let it go" and the thought had stuck with her all those long years that Sasuke had been gone. Sakura had long ago realized that her love for him had been nothing more than a crush; just a little girl's infatuation rather than true love. This realization did not mean she didn't still care about him, if anything being able to understand those feelings had made her care for him even more. No matter what had happened, and what choices he made, he was still her teammate, and like a brother to her. She could see how all the pieces of his life had fit together to make him the man he had become, and she regretted her own small part in his departure. Maybe if she hadn't chased after him so relentlessly, and been the kind of friend he so desperately need, things might have turned out differently, but that didn't bear thinking on at the moment. Now she needed to focus on the problem at hand.

Sasuke laid bleeding, and very near death. He had driven himself so hard, given up so much of himself, and lost so many things all in his quest to destroy his brother, and avenge his family, and now that he had accomplished his ambitions he might not live to see what lay beyond them. Sakura was trying valiantly to quench the bleeding, and repair the damage, but it seemed to be an impossible undertaking. There was so much blood the boy's once dark hair now was red, and his skin was cold, and clammy, and an even paler shade than normal.

She nearly cried in frustration, it just wasn't fair, and while she was not some naive little girl who thought things would always work out for the best, to see things end like this was too much. Sasuke deserved a chance to finally be at peace; to see what life could be like when lived for only himself. To be able to fulfill his own dreams, rather than be an avenger or his brother's implement of personal destruction. She knew it wouldn't be that simple, that Sasuke was a profoundly damaged individual, but he needed a chance to go home, to heal with the help of those that cared for him.

She owed that to him, but it wasn't for him alone. She knew without him Naruto would be lost, and she couldn't bear to think of the look on his face when she would have to tell him that she couldn't save Sasuke. He had tried so hard to bring their teammate back into the fold, and if she could return Sasuke to him she could, in some small part, repay him for all the times she ignored him, all the times she had treated him as a lesser being, all because her stupid obsession with Sasuke had blinded her to the amazing person Naruto truly was. If anyone could help Sasuke heal, and start anew, it would be Naruto. She wanted to give him that chance.

In a flash Sakura knew what she needed to do, it might mean her death, but Sakura knew that if it gave Sasuke a chance for a brighter future, than she would give it all up. She would give him back to Naruto, back to the village, and even if she didn't survive, he would, and in the end that was what mattered. Her job was to mend the broken, and this would be the start of that mission.

It would be a lie to say she wasn't scared, that she didn't think back on her life, her family, and her friends with some regret, but she was resolved. She took a moment, focused her mind and spirit, and began the healing process.

It was complicated, and her skin soon began to glisten with a sheen of sweat, and her limbs began to feel heavy, but she pushed on. She pushed past pain. She pushed past exhaustion. Her fingers began to tingle, and soon they lacked any feeling at all, but still she persisted. She remembered all those times she though herself weak, and helpless, of all those times she had been protected instead of taking charge. Of all the days when she stood behind the backs of her teammates, and knew it was time she was the one to take care of them. She could do this, and, with a final push of energy she didn't know she possessed, the healing was done.

Sasuke's skin was a rosy color, unblemished and unbroken. The bleeding had stopped, and his breathing was regular. Sakura slumped to the ground, unable to feel her body, her breath coming in short painful gasps, the edges of her vision blurring in and out. She felt the body beside her stir, but she could no more lift herself to check on him than she could have moved mountains, or called the sea to part.

Sasuke must have somehow managed to propel himself up, because she felt him kneel next to her. She didn't feel his hand on her forehead, but she could see it there. His face loomed close to hers, and she thought she could see tears in his eyes, but she wasn't sure.

There was a roaring in her ears, but she head him gasp out "why Sakura? Why did you do this for me? What could I possibly have done to deserve this? You can't die."

She couldn't find the strength to move, but she somehow found the inner reserve to speak. Her voice was trembling and weak, but still audible. "I did it so you could go home" she gasped, coughing, and continued "I did it so you can start over. Live for yourself. Do what you want to do. Try to be happy. Let Naruto help you. Don't shut him out. You need him. You need them all. Please go home. He isn't the same without you. He needs you. The village needs you. Even if I can't be there, you can." Her voice was strained and came in short spurts. "Tell him, I'm sorry. Tell them all I'm sorry. I wasn't strong enough. Tell them I love them."

He stayed where he was hand on her forehand, silently crying. He tried to begin to speak. "Go, now," she rasped. "There's nothing you can do, I know, I'm a medic. If you want to repay me then go home."

He tried to speak, and again she stopped him. "Just go home" her voice cracking "please" she begged, the word almost dying in her throat, and practically inaudible. Her breathing was broken and coming in even shorter and more uneven bursts. "Please just go" she whimpered, almost more to herself than to the man above her.

At this he seemed to break out of his stupor, and he dropped a small kiss on her forehead where his hand had previously rested, and whispered in her ear "thank you." Then he rose and made his way silently back, she hoped, to the village and everyone who was waiting.

**AN:** _I don't know where all this angst is coming from. I hope you enjoy, and please review if you do. This is in a little different vein for me, so I'm a little nervous about posting._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _Headline News: I still do not own Naruto, updates at 5 past the hour every hour._

_**Rating:**__ Since I forgot to put in the first chapter, this story is rated for mature subject matter, and sexual content, not now but later (Sakura's not feeling so hot right now)._

Sakura had no concept of how long she lay there, alone in the grass, there were sensations and fleeting feelings, but they were blurred and indistinct. She had no way of knowing what was real, and what was a product of her delirium, but she knew that after a period of time she awoke.

She felt herself open her eyes, and for a moment she saw nothing. A part of her mind began to panic until she realized she was staring at a flat expanse of uninterrupted white. She took a moment trying to get her bearings, but staring up at the flawless surface gave her nothing to focus on. Nothing to give her any sense of how near or far it was. Was this what it was like to be dead, drifting alone in a universe of white? She shook her head slightly. She needed more evidence before she could draw any conclusions about her present condition, or location. She was a ninja; observation was one of the most basic skills she possessed.

She tried to rise, but there was a sudden deep pain in her chest, her body's way of telling her that it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. That was all the proof she needed, she was alive. Being dead couldn't possible hurt this much. She sighed in resignation, and settled for moving her eyes; at least she could do that much without any trouble. She looked left and right, and details of the space began to take shape. She was in a white room, there was a table beside her, and she was lying on some sort of bed. The lights were dim, and she couldn't make out anything beyond her immediate vicinity. She closed her eyes, there was nothing more to see, and she knew she needed her rest. Only time would tell where she was, how she got there, and who was caring for her. All she could do now was focus on what was of immediate importance, her health. She would deal with the rest when it was time, but worrying about things that were out of her control was useless, and a waste of energy she didn't have.

She must have fallen asleep, but for how long was anyone's guess. She tried raising her head, and at the motion she heard a voice filled with concern, "Don't do that. You need your rest or you're never going to get any better."

She felt the panic begin to rise, she couldn't place the voice, and here she was helpless before this unknown entity. She felt a hand on her forehead and she flinched.

"Don't worry" the voice soothed "you're alright. Nothing here will hurt you." The hand on her forehead made a calming sweep brushing the sticky bangs away from her eyes. "You have to sleep if you're going to get any better."

Sakura tried to regulate her breathing and control her panic, but it was too much. Her nerves were on edge, she felt lost and alone in an alien world. She looked to the side to see who was speaking to her in such a comforting manner. The figure was bathed in shadow and she couldn't see any of his features clearly.

The hand on her forehead continued to stroke in a soothing manner, and he whispered comforting nonsense under his breath. She was scared, but soon the soothing sound of his whispered words and the comfortable feeling of his hand on her head conspired to set her mind and easy and soon she found herself drifting off to sleep again. As she drifted off she thought she heard him say "Don't worry Princess you'll know who I am soon enough, so sleep for now. Nothing can hurt you on my watch."

**AN:** _So my little ride down angst lane continues. Let me know what you think. I'm still up in the air about the whole thing, as per the usual._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Neither I, nor any of my other personalities, own Naruto. We are content to merely borrow them to fulfill our own dark desires, and then let them scamper**** off back home to their creator ****essentially unharmed**

The next thing she knew was warmth; a deliciously cozy feeling that stole over her entire body. She was still half asleep, and she wasn't ready to face the world, and the unknown situation she had found herself in. She felt rested, and the pains that had been such a constant and demanding presence had receded into more of a full body ache, uncomfortable, but not debilitating. She shifted, trying to will herself back into the oblivion of sleep, but her mouth felt dry, and her stomach demanded something to fill it. She gave up the futile attempt at sleep, and opened her eyes.

She was still in the white room, but today it was lit with a sunny glow. She could see into every corner. There was a window, with crisp white curtains, a bedside table, simple lighting, a basic chair, and a doorway leading to destinations unknown. "_P__robably_" she mused wryly to herself "_someplace really __glamorous, __like__ a hallway_." The room surpassed neat and clean, and dwelt in the temple of sterile. It was the kind of room that would have done any small hospital or clinic proud, and in fact was a sight better than many such rooms Sakura had worked in during her years as a medic.

Aside from herself, the room was devoid of life, and the white on white color scheme felt cold. There were no personal touches. No pictures on the wall, no clothes on the chair, no knickknacks of any kind at all. It felt as if the room had been sitting in isolation, waiting for this moment, waiting for her. As if it's sole purpose was to cater to her, in her time of greatest need. She laughed at herself "_almost die, and now your getting maudlin. Snap out of it._"

She tested her range of motion, first wiggling both her fingers and toes. This movement was accomplished with a minimum of effort, and she was just deciding to move on to something move adventurous when she heard a noise approaching from outside the door. Sakura tensed, she vaguely remembered a figure, one who had comforted her, soothing her to sleep, but the memories were slippery, and no concrete details emerged. She believed the figure to be male, judging by the tone of the voice, and the callused feel of his hand on her forehead, but beyond that she knew nothing. Now that she was fully coherent she felt the first real inkling of unease. She had been scared before, but that was more like a young child's fear of the dark, and the monsters that lurked therein. Now that she was ready and alert, the fear took on a recognizable shape. She was weak, she couldn't feel the normal pulse of her powers, and she was at the mercy of her alleged rescuer.

He could be anyone.

He could want anything from her.

Saving her from her death was no guaranty that his intentions were pure. She tensed as the noise grew closer and closer to the door. She heard a muffled fumbling, and the click of the handle as her savior or her damnation walked in.

He was back to her, and looked to be carrying a tray of some sorts. While he engaged in a balancing act trying to support his burden, and operate the door without dropping the former or making a clamor with the later, Sakura studied his back. He had short dark hair, and was taller than her, but at only 5'3" that was easily accomplished. He was built along strong, but lean lines, the hallmark of the many accomplished ninjas Sakura had known in her life. He wore a simple white short sleeved shirt, fitted, but not tight, and a pair a loose dark pants. His feet were bare. His skin, what she could see of it, on his neck between the nape of his neck and the collar of his shirt, on his arms below his shirt sleeves, and on his feet was milk pale. He fumbled at the door for a breath longer, and then he turned to face the girl.

His face took her back a moment, but only for a moment, and she was too much the trained medic to let her shock show in her face. The scars that marred the right side of his face, and crossed the socket of the missing left eye were not, by any means, the worst that she had seen. They were faint, raised lines, and they did nothing to deter from his classic profile. In fact, the scars, in some small way, only seemed to highlight the bone structure, and the missing eye only focused attention on the remaining one. It was dark, and long lashed, and Sakura found herself at a loss for a moment.

It wasn't that he could be Sasuke's twin, the man before her was older, and it showed in the slight graying at his temples, and in the lines gathered at the corners of his lips, and eye, but the man looked like Sasuke's long lost uncle, but that was impossible. Itachi had seen to that when he slaughtered the entire Uchiha clan, save for himself and his brother, but the resemblance was striking. She knew for certain that the man was not Itachi. Sakura had the distinct displeasure of meeting him before, and the man in front of her shared none of the blood curdling, mind bending qualities of Sasuke's, sociopathic, elder sibling. That, and the fact that if it had been Itachi that had captured her chances were 100 to 1 that there would be dank basement rooms, chains, a lot of posturing, and threatening conversations involved. She wouldn't be resting comfortably on nice soft sheets, in room that was clean enough to eat off any surface without fear. Sakura had just started speculating on the existence of other Uchiha bastards running around when the man coughed.

She broke free of the meandering path her thoughts had wandered idly down, and focused her attention back on the man before her. He smiled, eye crinkling in good humor, and strode over to her bedside, tray in hand. Sakura sensed no ill intent from the man, and turned her attention to the objects in his hands. There was a bowl on the tray, and a glass. The scent of a simple broth filled the air, and Sakura's stomach gave a loud rumbling noise. She blushed a bit, but she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten anything, and the food before her smelled wonderful. He laughed aloud at the noise, and set the tray on the table by her bed. He moved the chair next to the table, and then faced Sakura.

"It's nice to see you are finally awake. I know that you have a lot of questions that you want answers to, and I will, but not right now." He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke. She started to protest, but he silenced her with a look. "You almost died," he stated firmly. "You need to eat, and regain your strength more than you need to know anything yet. I promise you that I mean you no harm, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

Sakura had no choice, but to trust his words and his intentions. She had no strength to fight him off, and her stomach was trying to gnaw its way free of the constraints of her body and gorge itself of the broth. He leaned over her, and helped her rise, and he propped her in a seated position, using the pillows to support her. He sat in the chair, and took the bowl in one hand. He performed a simple series of signs to show Sakura that the broth had not been poisoned or tampered with in any other way. Sakura tried to reach for the bowl, but found that while she could reach for the bowl, she wasn't able to grasp it firmly. He clucked his tongue at her, and gently pushed her arms to her side.

"Come on, how often does an old man like me get to wait on such a pretty girl?" His words were light, but there was a concerned look in his face. "I told you that you were at death's front door, and if you don't want to visit again any time soon you need to take your time, and rebuild your strength slowly." He spoke calmly, but there was a firm undertone. He would not be gainsaid in this, and it would be futile for her to try.

Sakura sighed; she had no patience for her own frailties. They reminded her too keenly of her younger self, and how little that she was actually able to do for herself. How many years she whiled away relying on the strength of others instead of her own inner reserves. To have to be fed, like an infant, frustrated her to no end. What she wouldn't give to just be able to stand on her own, and return to the only home she had ever known. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them away defiantly. She would not compound this weakness with crying.

He sat the bowl down, and reached his hand to her cheek. She flinched a bit, but he persisted until his hand rested against her visage. He ran the fingers up to her eyes, first the left, and then the right, and wiped her tears away. He then moved until his arms were wrapped around her, and she was cradled against his chest. She made a token protest, but the feeling of his solid body, and the warmth of his presence were felt too safe for her to turn away. He rocked her a bit while she silently cried into his shoulder.

"You amaze me. You fought so hard, and you did it, you saved him. A lesser medic would never have succeeded, and they would have died in the attempt, but not you. You saved him. You brought him back from the brink, and were willing to sacrifice everything you had to do it. You are the strongest person I know. It's not weakness to rely on those around you when you need to. The only real weakness would be to keep pushing, to do more damage in an attempt to prove yourself when you don't need to. You have nothing left to prove." The quiet conviction in his voice moved Sakura beyond words. He slowly released her back into the support of the pillows, and she looked up at him. His expression betrayed no guile, no pity, only sincerity.

He lifted the bowl back up, and dipped a spoonful blowing on it to make sure it was an acceptable temperature. "Open up," he smiled. "I may not be much of a cook, but I do make a mean broth, if I do say so myself."

Sakura relented, opened her mouth, and allowed the man to feed her. He was right, the flavor was simple and mild, nothing strong, or spicy that would irritate a delicate constitution, but it was soothing, and soon filled her empty stomach. He helped her to drink the glass of water, gave her some medicine for the pain, and helped her to lie back down on the bed. He collected the dishes, sat them by the door, and returned to her side. He tucked the covers around her snugly. Sakura felt exhausted by the small effort, and found herself drifting off to sleep. She thought she felt him drop a small kiss on her forehead, and whisper "goodnight princess" in her ear, but she wouldn't swear to it. All she knew is that when she awoke later, both the dishes and the man were gone.

**Style Note: Thanks to Broken Mantra, I'm using **_italics_** to help highlight inner monologue, as well as the in-text identification.**

**AN: Oh, a longer chapter. My muse was in a cooperative mood (for once). I apologize for any excessive out of character ****behavior;**** they're not exactly having a run of good days. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this for me, and not matter how many times she tells me that I help her as much she helps me, I have to thank Broken Ma****n****tra for her tireless and patient support. Read her stuff it's fantastic. I would also like to thank ****Lorack****, who speaks for the trees, (don't ask, it's not really that funny) ****who is the best friend a person could ask for.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: No, I still do not own Naruto, anyone surprised by this? I thought not.**

Sakura's recovery was a slow process, and it didn't take long for Sakura to begin to loose her patience. She was no longer bed ridden, but short shuffles between the bed and a chair, the man had set by the window for her, were all she could manage. She felt like an old woman. She sighed audibly as she slumped into the chair, exhausted by the effort. She looked enviously at the world beyond the window.

It seemed as if the sun shinning brightly on the grass, the breeze that ruffled the petals of the roses that bloomed in a perfusion of soft pink clouds, and the birds that merrily chirped from the trees were all contrived to make her miserable. "I am warm" said the sun. "I am soothing" said the breeze. "I am sweet" said the flowers. "I am cheery" said the birds.

Sakura glared darkly at them, and muttered curses under her breath at the inviting scene that waited just beyond her reach.

She still had no real concept of how long she had been here, and she had yet to leave the white room. Only the view outside the window, and the hallway beyond the door gave Sakura any hope that there was still a larger world outside. Sometimes she wondered if she was stuck in some sort of elaborate trap, or nightmare. She missed her friends, her family, and her village. The mystery man had treated her well, and he proved, for the most part, to be an amicable companion. He was funny, smart, and treated her with a sort of respect that almost bordered on reverence, but he still foiled any attempts at more significant conversation.

He would answer no questions about her present location, his motivation for rescuing her, how long she would have to stay here, or anything of that ilk. He also refused to say anything about who he was, where he was from, what he was doing, anything remotely personal or revealing. He referred to himself as an old man, and although there was gray in his hair, he moved with a grace and power that belied the words. He was older than her, more like Kakashi's age than anything, but certainly not old.

He wore no village insignia, whole or crossed out, and his simple clothes bore no clan symbols or markings. He bore a striking, and disturbing, resemblance to Sasuke, and Sakura had yet to come up with any satisfactory answers. Some sort of branch family, maybe born on the wrong side of the sheets, maybe it was all a coincidence. Pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes were not an unusual combination in this part of the world, and were not the sole province of the Uchiha clan. Besides the man spoke in full sentences, treated others (well, at least her) respectfully, and she had seen him laugh on more than one occasion. Sakura could count on the fingers of one hand the times she had heard Sasuke laugh, in a genuine manner, and the world would probably end in a fiery conflagration should Itachi ever laugh (in good humor that is).

She gave up speculating about the man, she had been doing this for days on end, and the exercise had started to grate on her nerves. She just wanted to be able to stand, straight and tall, shake his hand, thank him politely for the rest, and skip back on home. She wondered if Sasuke had kept his word, and returned to the village. She held on tight to the belief that he had done as she asked. Her heart couldn't bear the thought of him simply running off, again, and leaving her best friend, Naruto, lost and alone forever.

There was so much weight on his shoulders, the power of the demon that would one day destroy him. The power that had been foisted on him, unwanted an unasked for. The very power that had made him an outcast in his home, feared, despised, and degraded by almost everyone for something done to him as an infant in order to save their sorry hides. He needed someone to stand for him, he needed friends he could lean on, and he needed people to trust in. He tried so hard, and was so strong, but, like everyone, he deserved someone to help him, someone to believe in him. Sakura worried for him, she had been away for what seemed like a long time, and she missed him terribly. She had to believe that Sasuke had returned home, and together with Naruto, had begun to forge a new path. The alternative was unbearable.

Sakura felt the gentle pressure of a hand on her shoulder breaking her melancholy reverie. She turned and faced the man, and spoke the first words that came to her mind.

"What is your name?"

This was not the first time Sakura had posed the question, and as expected the man began to speak the same refusal, but Sakura stopped him short.

"Alright, alright don't bother, you might as well just tape yourself saying 'now is not the time' and save yourself the effort. I could play it anytime I felt the need to ask any one of the million questions I need answered. It would be much more efficient."

"I understand your aggravation" the man started.

"Great, that makes two of us 'cause I've understood my aggravation for ages now."

The man continued "but now is not the time. The implications of the things you ask are much greater that you can possibly know."

"Wait, don't you need a cloak for this, maybe some kind of staff? Do you spend your free time hanging around crossroads, and wayside inns making vaguely ominous predictions? Do you prefer the stars or entrails when you're divining?" Sakura's voice had taken on a faintly hysterical edge. She knew what the answer would be, it was the same answer she had gotten to the same question the past 10 times she had asked, but today was the breaking point. He reached down to embrace her, but she shied away.

"Don't touch me. I don't even know who you are." She cried. Her resentment leaked from her eyes falling softly into her lap.

He stayed beside her, but made no further efforts to reach out to her. She could feel the heat radiating from his figure, and his scent, spicy with a slight musky overtone, teased her nostrils. He continued to watch her shoulders shake, and the water leak from her eyes. Sakura took a moment, focusing her energy and effort into composing herself. He remained where he was, patiently unmoving, and as soon as she was calm, he reached out and placed his hands on either side of Sakura, resting them not on her person, but on the arms of the chair. He was knelt down, facing her, his dark eyes never breaking contact with hers.

"Would you like to go outside?"

Sakura nodded. Fresh air and sunshine sounded heavenly. She knew she would never be able to make it under her own power, and she lifted her arms to him, and after a moment, she was held fast in his arms, and she was leaving the room for the first time.

**AN: Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me for this long, hopefully this is long enough to, in some small part, make up for the marked lack of updates. Computers are evil. As always, credit goes out to Broken Mantra. It was her desire to find out what happens next that motivated me to update this story first.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Thick Soup is a Stew / Beer is a brew / I don't own Naruto / and neither do you.**

He carried her out the door, and down a short hallway. A few other doors branched off the hall, all simple bare wood, the walls were painted a cream color, and, like the white room, it lacked any of the usual sorts of decorations or adornments. No pictures, or mirrors, or posters, nothing but blank walls, interrupted by plain doors. It fit the man; Sakura decided after a moment's contemplation, the house gave away no more of him than his words did. It was a perfectly clean, but perfectly empty space.

The man headed towards the end of the hall, and the larger door that stood there. It was no more decorative than anything else Sakura had seen, simple bleached wood with a latch. He managed to unlatch the door, and maneuver them outside without jostling her in the slightest. He carried her down a simple walkway of river stone to the small garden she could see from her window.

Roses bloomed in perfusion of pink, and hid a small bench. He arranged Sakura on the bench, and sat next to her. Sakura reveled in the sunshine, which was every bit as warm and inviting as it had first appeared to her from behind the window glass. The roses perfumed the air with a sweet yet subtle scent, and the breeze ruffled her pick locks. The man behind her shifted until Sakura was seated in front of him, between his spread legs, her body resting against his chest, and his arms around her. It was a comfortable spot, and Sakura's mind began to drift away. She fell asleep there drained from the strength of her emotions, beguiled by the tranquil breeze and the rays of the sun.

She awoke refreshed, to find herself in the same position. She turned to look at the man behind her, and he smiled, a slight crooked gesture hampered a bit by some of the faint scars. This did not detract from its appeal, and, in fact, it added a touch a rakish charm to the gesture. It was a smile designed to melt a girl's knees, but Sakura was made of sterner stuff. She tried to raise herself, but his hands prevented her motion.

"If you stay, I'll tell you a story."

Sakura sighed, and sunk back against the man. She hadn't really wanted to move, he was warm, and she was comfortably arranged, but she felt the need to try to keep some sort of distance. The promise of anything, even just a story, given freely, from the man was enough to bring her token efforts to an end.

"I come from a family with amazing talents and powers. We were among the most respected and revered clans in the village, the keepers of peace and order. My father and mother were no exception, and the highest hopes were placed on me from birth. Unfortunately I was the bad apple. I didn't have any of their abilities, was the family screw up. Not only a disappointment to them, but to the rest of the village, and the failure of my team. Compared to the rest of the team I was weak, I tried, but nothing I did ever seemed to work our right. I used to drive one of my teammates crazy, late all the time, with the lamest excuses you could possibly imagine. According to me, you'd think little old ladies in need of assistance threw themselves in my path in droves. He was so serious, so driven, so miserable that I couldn't help myself. He had a stick so far up his ass I swear you could see it coming out of his nose. My other teammate was the sweetest girl I knew, and I had a massive crush on her. She, of course, didn't notice my existence."

Sakura laughed at the story "My teacher was exactly the same way. Naruto, Sasuke and I would all be ready and waiting at the bridge, and he would wander in late, there was always some little old lady who needed help getting her cat out of a tree or something."

The man behind her laughed at this, and Sakura proceeded to regale him with tales of the misadventures of Team 7 from her youth. Stories of her hopeless crush on Sasuke, and the crazy lengths it drove her to. She told him about the fights she and Ino would have, and all the things they did to try to get the uninterested boy's attention. Stories of the impossible situations Naruto got them in to. He told her stories of his young team's missions, and the trouble he always seemed to cause. The resemblance between the man and Naruto was remarkable, and his troubled relationship with his teammate seemed to mirror that between Sasuke and Naruto. She hoped that things had worked out better for the man and his teammate than it had for Naruto and Sasuke, but something inside her doubted it very much.

He was still laughing over the story of Naruto and the pet pig when Sakura asked him a new question.

"I know that you can't tell me your real name, but isn't there something I can call you? I keep referring to you as 'the man' in my head, and it's getting inconvenient."

"Why don't you call me Sam."

At this Sakura smiled. The sun was beginning to set, and he stood, taking Sakura into his arms, and headed back inside the house.

**Authors Note: I would like to think everyone who reads and reviews, your appreciation and support mean the world to me. It's been a long couple of weeks, but luckily things are doing much better. Now if only I could make the computer work we'd be all set. My beta, Broken Mantra, is amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better person to help convert me to the dark side.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: I've wished on stars, clovers, wishbones, and rocks, and Naruto still does not belong to me.**

He carried her back inside the house, but instead of taking her back to the room she had inhabited for so long, he headed though a different door. Once inside, Sakura found herself in a neat and tidy kitchen. The walls were painted a simple, butter yellow color, complimented by the green of the herbs hanging in the window to dry. There was a round table of bleached wood, and a pair of matching chairs. The appliances were older, but in good repair, and there was a white farmhouse style sink.

Sam eased Sakura into one of the chairs. She squirmed for a moment, trying to find the most comfortable position. When she was settled, she looked over to Sam, who was leaned against the butcher block style counter tops that ran the length of the far wall.

"Hungry?" he asked, and at his words Sakura's stomach gave a low grumble.

"I guess that answers that question" he answered with a smile. "I'm not much of a chef, but I think even I can throw together a stir fry. Does that work for you?"

Sakura laughed. "That sounds fine to me. I'm not picky."

He chuckled at her response, and she watched as he began the dinner preparations. He reached into the fridge, extracted a variety of different vegetables, and a block of tofu. He drew a knife from the block, and began to chop the ingredients.

Sakura found herself watching the man's hands as he diced. They were not delicate hands. They were callused and rough from years of activity. She could place them all; the calluses from throwing knives, and other weapons, from years of physical training, and activity. The fingers were long, but crooked from untold breaks and sprains. They weren't the hands of someone who had spent his life in leisure, but of a man who had worked long and hard.

The smooth, efficient movements of his hands provided a counterpoint to their rough appearance. The knife rocked back in forth in a perfect rhythm as he fed the food though the blade. The piles of broccoli, peppers, onions, and other vegetables grew, and the measured pace of the knife never wavered. Sakura found herself, almost hypnotized, watching his elegant dicing. He might not be a chef, but Sam certainly was an expert when it came to handling a blade.

He poured the diced vegetables, seasonings, and tofu into a pan. He bent down to collect the rice from the cabinets under the counter. He washed, and soaked the rice before putting it on to steam. His preparations finished, he sank into the chair opposite Sakura at the table. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, Sakura enjoying the scents of dinner as they filled the air of the cozy room.

She could see the sun setting beyond the kitchen window, a ball of red sinking into a field of darkening trees. The sky was painted a Technicolor mixture of pinks, reds, and oranges. The light spilled through the window, and stained the walls. Her mind drifted unencumbered by thought, or reason, as she simply enjoyed the show, content to bask in the comfort of his undemanding presence, and the beauty of the natural world. Soon enough the sky grew dark, and the man rose to turn on the simple wrought iron chandelier that presided over the table. The room brightened, and the man moved about the kitchen collecting plates, and utensils. He dished up the stir fry, and presented it to Sakura.

"I hope this meets with my lady's approval" the man said in a tone of feigned seriousness as he bowed before her.

Sakura, lifted her nose, and replied in her best snob voice. The voice she had perfected listening to Neji 's relatives in the marketplace "it better." She bent, and lifted a very small portion of the meal to her lips. She tasted it carefully, as if judging it for a prize. She frowned a moment "it will have to do" she sighed.

"Very well my lady." He replied with a wink, and slipped into his own chair. Sakura dropped the act, and dug into the food with a vengeance. She had started out able to tolerate only simple broths, and they mad moved on to rice gruel, porridge, and other nourishing, but bland, fair. She had only recently begun to eat a spicier and heartier fair, and he still avoided a lot of heavy or irritating things. She was gaining all the time, but there was no reason to rush things along._"Rush the healing process and you may find yourself in even worse shape than you started out."_ Sakura had told this to her patients many a time, but seeing it from this side of the bed was a different story. _"They do say medics make the worst patients"_, she mused.

The silence, which had been soothing at first, began to grate a bit on her nerves.

"Did you plant the roses?" Sakura asked the man. "They're gorgeous."

"No," the man replied "they were planted by the lady who owned the house before me."

She looked at him expectantly. _"Come on"_ she mentally prodded _"conversation involves a give and take._" Just as she was about to fill the emptiness with yet another attempt at small talk, he continued speaking.

"Those roses were her pride and joy. I remember seeing her out there day after day, pruning, weeding, and tending to them. She told me they liked to be sung to, and they liked lullabies the best. She had a terrible voice, but still, there she's stand, singing to the roses. I used to tease her for it, but she'd only laugh and tell me that they were tone deaf anyways, so they didn't mind. She must have been about 70 when she took me in, but you'd never know it to look at her. She found me, healed me, and gave me a reason to live. She was so strong, so amazing. She took me in, and put me back together, asking for nothing. She didn't care where I was from, or what I had done. She'd always say that she could see the essential purity of character shining through, and the rest didn't matter. She believed in people, but she wasn't naive, or gullible. After she began her slow decline, I'd carry her out to sing to her roses every day at twilight. Even in her last days, I'd open the window, and she'd let her music float out to sooth them to sleep." The man's voice was quiet, and a bit thick. She could see a glimmer at the edge of his eye.

Sakura reached across to rest her hands on top of his, which were sitting clenched on the tabletop. She stayed silent for a moment, trying to convey her sympathy through her touch, trying to find the words to say. This was the most open and vulnerable see had seen him, and she didn't want to butcher the moment with hasty sentiment.

"She sounds like a wonderful person." Sakura settled for simple words, spoken with sincerity.

"She was; you would have loved her. She would have loved you as well. She loved to laugh, and she told the best dirty jokes. It would tickle her pink to make people blush. The Icha Icha books were her favorite, and she always claimed she had served as a muse for the author in her early years." The man brightened as he shared his memories of the person who had obviously been a vital part of his existence.

Sakura giggled "I've met the author of those, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit. Tsunade, my mentor, almost killed him when she found him spying on her in the baths. As for your lady, I bet she would have loved my teacher, Kakashi. You never, and I mean never, saw him without an Icha Icha book pressed to his nose."

At her words, the man began to laugh, loud, and long. Sakura gave him a confused glance, the story was funny, but for someone without any prior knowledge of her teacher it wasn't all that funny. Her consternation must have shown through, and he spoke.

"I know Kakashi, heck everyone in this business knows him. He's legendary, a giant among men. It's amusing to see another side of him through your stories. Those are the kind of things that don't make the Bingo books. It's nice to know he's just a man, like the rest of us."

Sakura's unease dissipated. She had spent time perusing the Bingo books, and had been awed by the accounts contained therein. The S class, either friend or foe of the village, were a breed apart, and to see them for the entirety of the person, not just for the accomplishments, both famous and infamous, that had landed them on those venerated pages, was a bit disconcerting; Kakashi the man, the myth, the pervert. She began to laugh right along with him the sound of their shared mirth filled the small room.

**Author's Note: I would like to thank all my faithful readers, and reviewers. You make writing and sharing this story a pleasure. I never thought that I would receive so much, and I am grateful for everything you have given me. Remember, even just a simple, positive review can have a big impact on someone. So, let's share the love. A big thank you to Broken Mantra, a beta among betas, and her undying support for this story, this one's for you. **


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